


Blackout

by headrush100



Category: Castle
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic, Suspense, blackout - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headrush100/pseuds/headrush100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One hot summer night, Beckett gets the kind of call she’s been dreading since she went into law enforcement. Written for agilesreader’s prompts: bomb, glass, blood (PG and somewhat shippy).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

Kate lay on the bed completely naked, angry and frustrated because she was still hotter than hell, and there was nothing left to take off. The blackout had robbed her of the sweet relief of the air conditioning, and her battery-powered fan had given up an hour before. She resented the fact that she’d be awake half the night, and tired and cranky in the morning. She rolled over and checked the clock on her phone. 12.37am.

There was nothing for it but to get up and take a cool shower by candlelight. She turned on the water and relished the feeling of being cold for the first time in months. When she finally stepped out, she heard her cell ringing in the bedroom, and sprinted to get it. The display showed _Lanie calling_. 

_Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, now there’s a body._ “Lanie?”

“Hello, Detective”, said a distorted, accented male voice.

Her skin crawled, but she kept her voice steady. “Who is this?”

“The man who’s gonna blow your friend into a million pieces.”

 _Call the precinct, get the bomb squad, call Castle._ “What do you want?”

“I want you to _watch._ Come to the Titan Health Club on 9th.” The voice dropped to almost nothing. _“Ka-boom.”_

“I’m not doing anything until I talk to Lanie.”

The line went dead. He hadn’t even told her to come alone. A multimedia message beeped in. Lanie was bound to a chair with duct tape over her mouth. On her lap was something she had to strain to see.

A clear glass box with something dark inside it. _Ka-boom._ Oh, God, poor Lanie. She zoomed in on the object and a digital timer reading _00:53:28_ confirmed her fears. She checked the bedside clock. 12:59am. The bomb would go off at 1:53, give or take a few minutes to allow for the time it took for the message to arrive. 

She called the precinct for backup, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her Glock and her .38, and two flashlights. She extinguished the candles in the bathroom, and flew out the door, calling Castle as she negotiated the stairs down to the parking garage. The traffic was going to be hell with the power out.

***

Castle was waiting by the main entrance to the health club when she pulled up at 1:23. Sitting in traffic had given her nerves all the time they needed to start getting the better of her, and she was a little surprised, but more grateful, that just seeing him there calmed her.

As soon as she got out of the car, he whispered, “The door’s unlocked. They want us to go in.”

There was no time to strategise. She pushed a flashlight and her .38 into his hands. “The safety’s on. It’s fully loaded.”

He nodded. “Roger that.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll take our backup to get here.” She must have betrayed some of what she was feeling, because he reached up to squeeze her shoulder. As usual, a gesture of comfort caused her to steel herself, embarrassed to have shown weakness. His hand dropped. 

“What’re we dealing with?” he said, quietly.

“No idea. All I know is, he has Lanie, and he wants me to find him.”

“We have...” he checked his watch, “about twenty seven minutes to get the bomb off her.”

“If it _is_ a bomb.”

“We have to assume it is.”

She took a steadying breath, and brought her gun up. “Let’s go.” She led the way, thankful that the blackout had at least adjusted their eyes to the dark. She stopped just inside the door. “Castle, be careful.”

He flashed a nervous grin. “Always.”

They started down a long, tiled hallway with workout studios on either side, but no windows. It was almost pitch black. They picked their way through the complex, until a strange, quavery sound reached her ears. She stopped to listen, stumbling as Castle blundered into her, muttering an apology.

“Do you hear that? Singing.”

“In Italian.”

“He’s either really cocky, or really crazy,” she whispered, moving on.

“Unfortunately, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

The singer’s bravado unnerved her as they continued down the hallway, and she could virtually feel the tension rolling off of Castle. In the echoey space, it was impossible to tell exactly where the noise was coming from, and she hoped to hell their backup wasn’t far behind.

They were definitely getting closer as they reached a double doorway at the end of the hall. 

“I think it’s coming from in here,” Castle whispered.

She risked a glance through the window on the door. “Swimming pool.” Movement caught her eye, and she ducked away. “Someone’s in there. I only saw one person, but there could be more.”

“There are always several entrances to a pool, through the locker rooms as well as the main door,” he said. “We should split up.”

“You’re not experienced enough.” She sighed, berating herself. “I shouldn’t have brought you here; it’s too dangerous.”

“Well, I’m here.” He waggles an eyebrow rakishly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “So use me.”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out. _Lanie calling_. She raised her eyes to his, and saw her own fear and urgency mirrored back. He’s fond of Lanie too. She looked down at the phone, and rejected the call. “No time for that, and if I say the wrong thing, it’ll make it worse.” 

A text came through. _Five more minutes and you’ll miss it!_

“Fucker,” Castle breathed.

“I’ll go through the ladies’ locker room; you take the mens’.”

He nodded, and they ran to the end of the hall, turned right, and came to the locker rooms.

 _“Hey,”_ he said, just as she was about to go through the door. “Be careful.”

She mustered a smile. “You too.”

***

The singing started up again, and she followed it through the labyrinth of corridors and benches in the pitch dark locker room. Every now and then she turned the flashlight on for a split second, just long enough to get her bearings. She was in the shower area now, which led to a corridor out to the pool. 

She pulled the door open – slowly, in case it squeaked or was guarded – and made her way up a short flight of stairs. The air was humid, and smelled of chlorine. The singing had stopped, but she could hear a voice...singular, seemingly talking to himself.

In the darkness, she could just make out the singer’s figure, pacing within a small area. Then she saw it: behind him, glowing red numbers, counting down. She crept along the edge of the opposite wall until she could read the clock. 00:03:21. 

Suddenly, the singer stopped, listening. “Just in time, Detective.” 

The numbers on the clock disappeared as the singer moved to stand in front of it. In front of Lanie. Ensuring that any shot at him had a good chance of hitting her instead.

She stood stock-still, praying he didn’t know her exact position. The heavy accent sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“I’m going to kill your friend the way you killed my brother,” he said. “Tell me you remember.”

That was it; she had to speak. “Who was your brother?” This conversation was going nowhere; precious time was wasting. She started to edge along, heading for his side of the pool. “Disarm the bomb, and we’ll talk.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He laughed a little. “Johnny Petronelli, but you knew him as ‘Johnny Boxes’.”

‘Johnny Boxes’, who cut up his victims and mailed them to their relatives in different boxes. “You’re mistaken. Johnny Boxes blew himself up during a drug bust six weeks ago during a standoff with the Organized Crime Squad. I had nothing to do with that. I’m in Homicide. I was investigating the murder of a teenager that had worked for him two years ago.” And then she realized; this must be Alessandro Petronelli, whom she’d interrogated in connection with the boy’s murder, along with his brother Johnny. That was how he knew her.

“Your name’s on the warrant for his arrest. You started the standoff.”

Behind him, she could just make out the clock. 00:00:57 and counting. Lanie started screaming behind the tape, unnerving her further.

“You’re wrong. Stop the bomb, and I’ll tell you what really happened.”

“An eye for an eye, Detective, like the good book says.”

00:00:07.

There was no time, and she had nothing left. “Please. Disarm it. This woman is innocent.”

“Ah, but you are not.”

Suddenly the singer whipped around and raised his arm, obviously taking aim. 

_Castle._ Without a second thought, Beckett took position and put a single round in the back of his head.

The singer dropped like a stone. 

There was a wild movement, and a tremendous splash. 

_No!_ The word tore from her throat as the pool was momentarily lit from below, and a percussive wave of roiling water spread outwards.

Kate dove in and thumbed on her flashlight. She could see Castle thrashing around, wrestling with Lanie’s chair, trying to get leverage to bring it to the surface. She reached them, and together they brought Lanie into the air. Kate worked Lanie’s bonds loose, and helped her to the side.

She peeled the duct tape off her friend’s mouth as gently as she could, wincing in sympathy, words of comfort and encouragement spilling out. “Are you hurt?” She ran the flashlight beam over Lanie, who was still wildly focused on the pool.

“No!” Lanie, gasped. “Where’s Castle?”

Kate spun around, straining to see into the darkness. 

There was a snapping sound, and suddenly the room was bathed in light, hurting her eyes. Thank God, at least the blackout was over.

In the middle of the pool, Castle was just about keeping his head above water. All around him, the water was red.

She kicked off and reached him in seconds, sliding her arm behind him to help him keep his head up.

“I’m okay,” he said, weakly.

Her hand brushed something high on his chest. He groaned loudly, but quickly swallowed it. She held his hand out of the way while she looked more closely, freezing when she saw it: a big, thick shard of museum-grade glass embedded a few inches below his right collarbone. Lanie reached them then, and met Kate’s eyes briefly.

They each took a side, grabbing him under his arms. He didn’t make a sound. “Come on Rick, no need to start being brave for us now,” she said gently, trying damned hard not to show him how scared she was. “Remember that time you shut your finger in the door? I thought we’d never hear the end.” She was relieved to see him smile, but his face was dead white. With difficulty, they managed to get him up the steps at the shallow end, so that he was sitting on the side of the pool. 

“Kate, prop him up,” said Lanie, her own nerves calming now that she was focused on her patient.

She moved around behind him and sat so that he could lean back against her, his head resting heavily on her shoulder.

He was now in a position to look down and see the shard sticking out of him. He tensed up, writhing against her.

“Rick,” said Kate, half calming, half warning.

“Castle, _leave it,”_ said Lanie, reaching for him.

But it was too late. Panicked, he grabbed the shard, and gave a hard tug. A gout of blood erupted from beneath it. He made a noise that pushed Kate that much closer to panicking as well, and fell back against her.

“And _that’s_ why we leave foreign objects in place until we’re at the hospital,” said Lanie, looking far more serious than she sounded. She glanced at Kate. “Help me lay him down.” 

Once he was lying flat, Lanie pressed her bare hand hard against the wound. It clearly hurt like hell, and her apologies tangled up with the noises he was making. Blood welled out between her fingers. “Can you run and find some clean towels or something?”

Kate took off for the locker room at a run. She shot the lock off a likely-looking cabinet, and grabbed a handful of clean white towels from inside.

She ran back and dropped to her knees beside him, letting Lanie guide her in how hard to press the towel against the wound. His face contorted at the pressure, still dead pale, his eyes less focused. “I think he’s going into shock,” she said.

“The cavalry’s got to be here any minute, right?” 

The way Lanie said it did nothing to ease Beckett’s mind. She put some folded towels under his head, while Lanie unbuttoned his shirt and carefully searched for further damage. 

Beckett alternated between watching her work, and watching Castle’s face for signs of pain or wakefulness. “What happened, underwater?”

“At the last second, he threw the glass box away from us, and pushed me away from it, but when he pushed me, it caused him to turn towards the blast.”

“Thought the water might soften the explosion,” he muttered.

“You were right,” she said, looking down into his eyes. “The water pressure contained the worst of it, and between that and the distance you put between you and the box, the water also stopped you getting burned. And I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you were lucky the glass was reinforced. Better one big shard than millions of tiny ones.”

Lanie took his hand. “You saved my life, writer boy. Thank you.”

He smiled, and his eyes closed.

“Lanie!” said Beckett.

But her friend had already reached out to press her fingers to his neck. She looked up. “BP’s dropping.”

A noise behind them made her jump. Suddenly the poolside was filled with uniforms, bomb squad, and EMTs. 

***

Lanie’s hands were still shaking as she took the mug of tea from Kate. Her hands weren’t altogether steady, either. 

“So that’s why he grabbed me. He wanted to get to you.”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, honey. I think he wanted to die anyway, suicide by cop, but he wanted to hurt me on his way out.”

“I think I’m gonna go home and have me a little nervous breakdown.”

Kate nodded. “That would be a reasonable reaction.”

“I was doing okay till I had to give a statement. Then it hit me.”

She reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Yeah, well, you were a little distracted saving Castle’s life.”

“Given that I’d be nothing but a fine red mist without him, it seemed the thing to do.” Lanie shifted in her seat. “If they knew people were going to be _waiting_ in this waiting room, you’d have thought they could put some comfortable chairs in here.”

The door opened, and the same ER nurse that had ushered them into the waiting room several hours previously reappeared. “Your friend is stable. The surgeon’s stitched him up and given him blood and fluids. He’s conscious and responding well. We’re going to keep him under observation for a few more hours, and then he should be able to go home.” She handed Kate a paper bag. “These are his antibiotics and painkillers, and some information about caring for the wound.”

“Can we see him?” she asked.

The nurse smiled. “Sure. Right this way.”

***

Castle looked extremely uncomfortable, and not a little groggy, as they rode the elevator to his floor.

“If it’s any consolation, that’s gonna leave a cool scar,” said Kate, not knowing what else to say to lighten things.

“If it’s any consolation, _the man saved my life_ ," Lanie smiled.

Castle grinned. “Both are very consoling, and definitely worth the fiery throbbing in my chest.”

The doors opened, and they walked him to his door. He stopped, regarding them with some amusement. “Not that I don’t appreciate the concern, but I’m okay.” His smile dropped. “But what about you two? _You,”_ he said to Lanie, “were almost blown up.” And _you_ ,” he said to Kate, “had to shoot a man, and almost lost two friends.”

When neither she nor Lanie had a ready answer, he nodded. “Come in. We could all use some coffee, or something stronger.”

They spent the day on the sofa, watching comforting old movies and fussing over each other, until Alexis and Martha came home and fussed some more. It wasn’t the way she’d have chosen to do it, but it felt good to be with friends. All day they supported one another, either through talking or a touch, or encouraging each other to eat or nap. Kate hadn’t experienced this kind of care in a long time, and hadn’t realized how much she’d missed or needed it.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” said Castle.

“What’s that?” said Kate.

“How it took an explosion to bring us all together,” he grinned.

End.


End file.
